


Dead Man Walking

by Adorable Anarchist (Vampbi)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Chronic Pain, Cursed Connor, HCBB2018, HankConBigBang2018, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not sure if a couple things that happen count as that or not? so I added it to be safe, M/M, Necromancer Hank, Necromancy, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Undead Connor, no actual suicide, the graphic depictions of violence tag is more precautionary than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampbi/pseuds/Adorable%20Anarchist
Summary: Connor was tired. This wasn’t anything new, Connor had been tired for twelve years. He’d also been hungry and in pain for twelve years. In that moment, however, Connor wasn’t just physically tired, he was tired of trying to find the asshole that had cursed him. Every time it looked like maybe, just maybe, he’d found something that pointed in the right direction it lead to another dead end.He was also tired of Lieutenant Anderson quietly glaring at him instead of doing anything to help Connor as he tried to piece together what happened at the crime scene they were at.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Finally getting to post this, oh my god! So this was obviously my fic for the 2018 HankCon BigBang and I'm very excited to get to share it with everyone!  
> First of all, shout out to [Kai](https://wemightbothberobots.tumblr.com/post/182432314087/piece-i-did-for-an-amazing-hankcon-fic-called-dead) and [Gav](http://gavimp.tumblr.com/post/182429685556/second-hankcon-big-bang-post-this-time-im-also), the wonderful artists I got to work with!! Check out their awesome art!!  
> And second of all, this fic was, in part, me venting and processing some of my feelings about my own chronic pain and fatigue. It was very cathartic for me to write and I hope that if you also have to deal with this bullshit it's cathartic to read. Nothing but love for my fellow spoonies <3  
> .....I guess I love you ableds as well lol.  
> Anyway, enjoy the fic! :D

It was a rather ordinary night, what was going on in the house aside. The late February air had a bite to it, but the weather was gradually warming. Life was slowly returning to the world, dogs barked, birds sang, and inside the house it forced the man to face what he’d done.

In the house it was freezing and shadows, writhing with something other than life, climbed the walls, blurring the edges of reality. The sounds from outside had disappeared, the house deafeningly silent in the same way a cold winter’s day is, except for the sobbing. Two beings were sobbing, one quietly and shuddering in an attempt to hold back his tears. The other was loud and frantic the way a child’s crying often is, because the second being was, in fact, a child.

Or rather, he used to be a child. The child had been six years old when he’d taken his final breath, a car crash having stolen the life he would’ve lived. This was a year and almost a full season ago. The child was growing thin, not in a physical sense, rather in a spiritual sense. There was only so much time he could spend amongst the living before he snapped into nonexistence.

Dead things didn’t belong with the living.

The child didn’t know this. He didn’t even know he was a dead thing. All he knew was that every day was more exhausting than the last and that today, his entire body began to hurt. So the child screamed and cried. This wasn’t the worst pain he’d been in, the crash had been much worse, but being a child he existed in the moment and in that moment he was hurting and he didn’t understand why.

The man knew why. The man hadn’t been able to accept the loss of his son and had used his powers to keep the child’s spirit around. See, the man was a necromancer and an extremely talented one at that, and grief is not rational. Rationally, the man understood that keeping a spirit on this side of the Veil for longer than a few months was a bad idea. Rationally, the man knew this wouldn’t fix anything and that eventually he’d have to let go of his son. The man had set aside his rational brain for over a year and now he had to face reality.

His son was suffering now because of him and that broke him more than he’d thought was possible. So the man prepared a ritual to send his son to the proper side of the Veil.

It was a simple ritual, with a thought the man set a candle alight with a dark fire that was simply manipulated death energy. The flame was a deep purple, easily mistaken for black, and it didn’t smoke in any visible manner. The man could see the energy flowing from it like smoke would from a normal flame only because of his being a necromancer.

With a deep, pained breath the man gathered that energy into an orb in between himself and the child. The child’s crying slowed to be less frantic as he looked at the swirling flame.

The man sobbed again before saying goodbye to his son for the last time. He sent the energy forward to cut the thread of energy holding the child here and watched as he faded away. Not out of existence, just to the other side of the Veil. He reminded himself that he wasn’t too late for that at least.

The man ended the ritual and sounds flooded back into the world; the temperature returned to normal, and the shadows retreated.

As the birds sang, the man vowed to never again use his necromancy. He was supposed to be a protector of the Veil, and not only had he failed that, he’d hurt his own son.

He kept that promise and wasn’t even tempted to break it for five years.


	2. Chapter 2

Connor was tired. This wasn’t anything new, Connor had been tired for twelve years. He’d also been hungry and in pain for twelve years. In that moment, however, Connor wasn’t just physically tired, he was tired of trying to find the asshole that had cursed him. Every time it looked like maybe, just maybe, he’d found something that pointed in the right direction it lead to another dead end.  
He was also tired of Lieutenant Anderson quietly glaring at him instead of doing anything to help Connor as he tried to piece together what happened at the crime scene they were at.

Connor had temporarily relocated to Detroit to continue his search and was assigned to partner with Lt Anderson during this investigation. The Lieutenant had made it very clear he would rather continue working alone, and that he didn’t think Connor had anything to add to the investigation. Connor thought he was currently doing a lot more investigating than Lt Anderson.

Connor glanced around the living room where the body had been found once again to see if he’d missed anything.

They had found the body drained of blood, skin paper thin and free of any cuts or bruises or anything that would indicate how the blood had left the body. The blood was not missing however, it could be found covering just about every surface in the room, arranged into intricate patterns that Connor wished he didn’t recognize. The loops and harsh angles the blood made would look otherworldly to anyone regardless of their familiarity with this type of magic. The blood was limited to the living room, but the magic radiated through the whole house.

The air was practically crackling with a deep magic that should go untouched. That wasn’t an objective thought, Connor personally wished no one would mess with this magic. He was loath to allow his own magic to touch anything this had come in contact with, the staticky slimy feeling of deep magic was repulsive, but Connor did a quick surface sweep of the various electronics in the house to see if he could gather any other info.

Every electronic in the place had died at exactly 1:35:03pm that day. The approximated time of death was between 1pm and 2pm so Connor could assume he now had an exact time of death. That… seemed like rather useless knowledge. It told him nothing about who had done this.

Connor sighed, frustrated. Behind him Lt Anderson laughed harshly. This further irritated Connor.

“Didn’t find anything?” Connor didn’t dignify Lt Anderson’s question with an answer, “I told you this fucker hadn’t left a trace. Believe I’m not completely useless yet?”

“I never said or thought anything of the sort. I just wanted to see for myself. I have been looking for this guy for a while now.” Connor said, finally turning to look at his partner.

Lt Anderson had his arms crossed and was leaning on a blood-free wall in the hallway. Connor briefly wished he were a hemomancer or something similar so he could confirm that the blood belonged to the vic. There was almost no way it didn’t though so Connor pushed the thought aside.

“Whatever. There’s nothing else to do here.” Lt Anderson said and left.

Connor sighed and followed. Detroit was shaping up to be yet another elaborate dead end. Whoever had done this seemed untraceable.

~  
Two more similar murders later, Connor knew the person he was chasing was without a doubt in Detroit. He also knew Lt Anderson was less grumpy than he’d seemed at first. He’d learned this by humiliating himself at the second crime scene when he’d just sort of…. screamed.

The lack of any hint as to who he was chasing combined with the pain radiating through his body threatening to take over his mind was just too much so he’d screamed in a very choked off, frustrated, and barely controlled way and sobbed, just once, before pulling himself together.

“Jesus christ, are you alright?” The Lieutenant asked, alarmed.

He’d been looking over something in the corner but had apparently been so alarmed by Connor’s loss of control he stopped and walked over. He crossed his arms again, but this time his posture screamed concern rather than distaste.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m,” Connor cleared his throat, “I’m alright. I’ve just been chasing this guy for so long.”

Connor reflexively ran a hand through his hair. When that wasn’t quite grounding enough he pulled out a coin and began absentmindedly rolling it across his knuckles. It was a motion that calmed him and provided a small distraction from the way his body warred against his continued existence.

“This case is personal for you, isn’t it?” Lt Anderson asked carefully.

Connor just nodded. He knew the Lieutenant likely assumed Connor had been close to someone who this guy had killed and well… he wouldn’t be wrong, so Connor didn’t bother to clarify. There wasn’t really an easy way to tell someone you barely know that you’re dead. There wasn’t any easy way to tell anyone that, in fact.

After that, the Lieutenant was much more cooperative and willing to work with Connor. Connor even began to enjoy his company. Well, as much as Connor could enjoy anything these days.

Currently, Connor was watching Hank eat a frighteningly unhealthy burger while they stood next to a food truck. Even with food so greasy and disgusting he was still tempted to try eating again. Only the memories of vomiting a seemingly endless supply of blood combined with intensified pain stopped him. Not to mention he couldn’t even taste the food anyway. The smell of it was almost hypnotizing though…

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to find the asshole who did this to him.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Hank asked, raising his burger slightly.

“I’m not hungry.” Connor lied, unable to peel his eyes off said burger.

“Suit yourself.”  
They stood in silence for a little longer before Hank asked something that seemed to have been pressing on him.

“How long have to been chasing this guy, anyway?”

Connor snorted. Just about twelve years. That answer might seem odd though, Connor had also stopped aging twelve years ago, so he still appeared thirty-three and with he technically could’ve been a detective at twenty-one he wasn’t sure if that would sound odd.

“Too long.” He said instead.

They lapsed into silence again and Connor took this time to examine his partner. He had pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail, a few strands had escaped framing his face. He seemed… sad somehow. The type of sadness which is much deeper than one’s surface emotions, the type of sadness you carried with you. He was sad but… he also hadn’t given up.

That was another way Lt Anderson was better than Connor he supposed. After all, Connor’s only real goals were to find out who cursed him and why and then die. Or just to die, he wasn’t picky. As long as it involved him dying he was onboard. Unfortunately, he needed a necromancer for that and those were rare.  
Maybe he’d have more luck finding one in Detroit.

~

After another couple days of nothing Connor and Hank were in the precinct once more going over what they knew. What they knew wasn’t all that much. There’d been three murders and whoever was doing it was, as always, to damn good at covering their tracks. Not to mention the deep magic that practically bled from everything at each scene. He wasn’t sure if Hank could sense it or not. Normally necromancers and animancers were the only ones who could pick up on that sort of thing. The only reason Connor, a technomancer, could sense deep magic was because of his status of ‘technically dead’.  
Connor sighed and sketched out the swirling patterns they had found the blood in. Maybe this time he could make sense. They’d been the same at every murder. They’d been similar but different in the motel he’d woken up with no memory of the past week in. Maybe if he stared at this sketch harder, he’d somehow be able to crack their code.

“You’re pretty focused on that blood, huh? Have any theories?” Hank asked, looking over at what Connor was doing.

“I don’t know. It seems…. like some sort of ritual, but what was the goal?” Connor frowned at his sketches.

Hank walked over and took a closer look. Then he grabbed his own piece of paper and drew out one of the symbols himself.

“Well, this is a symbol for death. And that’s one for life. They're fairly old versions of the symbols though so whatever they were trying to do they were messing with something they shouldn’t’ve.” Hank said.

He continued speaking but Connor didn’t quite hear him. No, Connor was much more interested in Hank knowing so much about these symbols. Once again, there were only two types of magic users who could read the old language. So either he was an animancer or…

“Lieutenant, are you a necromancer?” Connor asked, straight to the point, hardly daring to hope.

Hank froze and turned to look at Connor with an unreadable look on his face. Connor took that as a ‘yes’. If his heart still beat, he was sure it would’ve done something odd at the rush of emotions. It had been so long since Connor had felt anything close to hope, so long since he had a possible end in sight, he didn’t quite know what to do with the emotion.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been looking for a necromancer for quite a while now. I need help with something and I think necromancy is the only magic that could help.” Connor explained.

He didn’t think necromancy was his only hope; he knew necromancy was his only hope. Well, that or deep magic but he refused to touch that. He wasn’t quite that desperate yet.

Connor had to remind himself to breathe. It was creepy when people who were supposed to be alive didn’t breath.

“What do you need help with?” Hank asked, his face guarded, posture shifted to be more defensive.

Connor barrelled forward anyway, “I need you to kill me.”

Hank blinked, “What?”

His shoulders loosened. Connor took advantage of his obvious shock to finish explaining. He had told no one about his… situation… before but he also hadn’t found a necromancer before. To potential reward outweighed the risk.  
“I’ve been cursed. I can’t die in any ordinary way, believe me I’ve tried, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat… I’ve existed in this horrible limbo for so long, and I can’t take it. I’ve looked into every way to fix this that I can think of, I’ve chased down a hundred dead ends. The only way to fix this is for a necromancer to forcibly remove my spirit from my body so I can die. I need you to kill me. Please.” Connor explained quickly, knowing but not caring that he sounded desperate.

Hank looked increasingly more alarmed as Connor spoke. When he finished Hank just shook his head.

“I’m not gonna kill you, kid. Find some other necromancer. Or better yet, some therapy.”

Connor frowned. Clearly Hank didn’t get it. How exhausting life as a dead man was. How the pain, the fatigue, the hunger, all constantly ate at him slowly driving him out his mind. How everything and everyone around him seemed to move in fast-forward while Connor was stuck on pause. How fucking alone he was.

How the hope he’d felt when he’d found out Hank was a necromancer was the first positive emotion he could remember feeling.

“I’ve been cursed for twelve years, Lieutenant. I’m tired. You’re the first necromancer I’ve found in those twelve years, I’m not giving up until you kill me.” Connor finished with a shrug before turning back to his work.

“You seriously need therapy.”

~

Connor leaves it alone for a few days. He was nothing if not patient. He knew giving Hank a couple days to roll the idea around in his head was a good idea, eventually he was bound to come around to the idea. After all, necromancers were guardians of balance, and a dead thing running around like it was alive had to be bad for that balance. After a couple days of nothing he thought maybe he needed something to shock the Lieutenant into understanding the situation. His current lead idea was to eat something around Hank. Dying would be worth the extra pain.

Before he had time to carry out this perhaps only half thought out plan they were called in to another crime scene that could’ve been their guy.

It took less than a second after arriving for Connor to conclude that this was the work of someone else.

For one, the body showed signs of a struggle. Whoever they’d been tracking always somehow managed their kill without a fight. The blood had been drained, yes but the swirls of it around the room were sloppy, almost hastily done. Not to mention the throat of the victim was slit. The entire scene screamed copycat to Connor, and not a great copycat at that. The deep magic that had been practically oozing out of everything at the other scenes wasn’t there either. Well, there was some deep magic here, but it was faint. The whole scene was a mess.

“This isn’t our guy.” Connor said much to Hank’s apparent amusement if the harsh laugh was anything to go by.

“No shit, Sherlock.”  
And then… a buzzing in his bones. Someone had was using magic on a piece of tech nearby and Connor could feel it.  
“I think they’re still here.” Connor whispered.

Hank was instantly on high alert, hand going to hover over his gun.

“What makes you say that?” He asked, equally quietly, eyes flicking over the room.  
“They’re also a technomancer and they’ve done something. I don’t know what, but I can sense it.” Connor said.

“You can? That seems… unusual.” Hank was frowning, not disbelieving just confused.

“The single good thing about being dead. I’m much more in tune with-” Connor cut himself off, something else had shifted.

Then an electrical outlet exploded. Fire quickly flooded the room aided by magic. So there was more than one person here. Connor didn’t dwell on that and instead focused on getting Hank out of danger.

“Hank! Run!” Connor shouted.

Hank headed for the door only to be blocked by a wave of fire. The fire was growing at such a rapid pace. The flames licked up the walls and covered the floor. They circled Connor and Hank, trapping them in place. The heat radiating out was intense even to Connor’s dulled senses; he was sure it had to near unbearable for Hank. He glanced at his partner and saw sweat already trying fruitlessly to cool him. Hank had drawn his gun but kept it at his side, still on high alert. It occurred to Connor that whoever was doing this could’ve easily just tried to kill them but instead they had them trapped. Perhaps they were just attempting to escape?

A wall of flame rose next to them, blocking half the room and the exit from sight. Connor held no doubt whoever was doing this was behind those flames. Without a second thought, and ignoring Hank’s alarmed shout, Connor dove into the flames.

The thing about being dead was while it was true he couldn’t die he could still feel pain. It was the one physical feeling that wasn’t dulled, in fact. And dead or alive, burning was incredibly painful.  
He could feel his hair rapidly burn away, the tender skin at his scalp blistering and melting at the same time. His blood boiled in his veins, he could feel veins burst inside him, blood invading places it should not bringing with it fresh agony. His flesh bubbled and melted pieces of it falling away. His eyes bubbled, and he lost sight in his left eye, it had burst and dripped down his face. He could feel his right about to follow but he finally broke through to the other side of the flames. He was sure he looked terrible. The two men he found standing there, frozen in clear terror seemed to think so.

“Put this fire out.” Connor commanded.

Out of something that was probably akin to shock, or maybe was just shock, the man on the left waved his hand, extended an arm, and quickly closed his fist. As he did the flames vanished. Ah, so he was the pyromancer. That would make the shorter one on the right the technomancer.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Hank shouted, rushing over.

“Lieutenant, would you do my a favour and arrest these two? I’m afraid I’d rather not be seen until my… skin… grows back.” Connor requested.

Hank arrested the two with little fuss, shock was a hell of a drug, and Connor quietly remained in the house, set on waiting out the time until he returned to his previous state in there. Already he could feel the beginnings of his left eye mending.

When he heard the door open Connor scrambled to hide before realizing it was only Hank.

“It takes a little longer than that for me to heal, Lieutenant.” Connor quipped.

“And what? You’re just planning to wait it out here?” Hank crossed his arms, practically radiating disapproval.

“Not sure what else I would do…?”

Connor was uncertain. He didn’t know what other option he had, and he didn’t know why Hank looked so disapproving. He would’ve expected disgust, considering his current state.

Hank sighed and let his shoulders drop before shrugging off his coat. He walked over and draped it over Connor.

“My couch is a lot comfier than a fucking crime scene. C’mon.” Hank said, turned, and walked away, expecting Connor to follow.

Which he did. He didn’t fully understand why Hank would let him recover at his place, but he would not argue it. At the very least, the coat provided some cover so he could hide his burnt form.

The car ride to Hank’s house was filled with blaring heavy metal. Connor wasn’t sure what exactly he expected, but it wasn’t that. He didn’t mind the music though. He’d never really listened to heavy metal before, and he kind of saw the appeal. He also found it vaguely amusing to watch Hank tap along to the beat on the steering wheel, head nodding along. It was…. nice. Oddly.

It didn’t take all that long for them to arrive at Hank’s house. Connor was carefully keeping himself covered with the large coat while he shuffled inside.

Almost instantly after he opened the door, a large ball of fluff and drool was there excitedly greeting him and Hank.

“Sumo! Down!” Hank commanded.

The dog, Sumo, didn’t listen. He instead nosed at Connor's legs and made the process of getting inside harder. Not that Connor minded, he really really liked dogs. He would rather this one would calm down and stop pressing on his legs while they were still raw and burnt though. Eventually he made it to the couch where he collapsed and decided he would not move again ever.

“I’m going to go get you some clothes.” Hank said before walking off down the hallway.

He left Connor alone with Sumo, who had curled up on the couch next to him. This pressed him up against Connor's legs pretty painfully, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Instead, he ran his hands through his fur. He wished he could feel like he used to but even with the dulled feelings petting a dog was soothing.

Hank reappeared and threw some clothes at Connor before walking away again. Connor peeled himself off the couch and pulled the clothes on. It was a pair of sweatpants and a frankly horrifying shirt. Still, it was better than the burnt scraps he had. As soon as he could he went back to his position curled up on the couch. Sumo shifted against him and Connor returned to petting him.

A minute later, Hank returned to the living room now with a beer in hand. He leaned against the couch and looked at Connor. Connor continued petting Sumo and tried to ignore his searching gaze. Finally, Hank sighed and spoke up.

“You don’t want to head to a hospital or anything?”

“No,” Connor shook his head, “It’ll take a couple hours, but I always end up in the same state I was when I was cursed no matter what. I’ve been shot, stabbed, disemboweled, cut in half, had limbs torn off, been beheaded-”

“Jesus christ!” Hank cut him off, “Sounds like this curse has saved your life.”

“Can’t exactly save something that doesn’t exist. I’m still dead, Hank. Just… trapped. I would much rather that fire or any of the other hundred things that should’ve killed me to have finished the job.” Connor snapped.

Regrowing skin was a painful process, he was allowed to be a little grumpy. He kept running his hands through Sumo’s fur.

“I’m just saying you sound like a fucking superhero is all.” Hank shrugged.

“I would like a refund on my superpowers, then. Besides, it’s not good for dead things to remain among the living.” Connor added bitterly.

This made Hank flinch and look away. Odd. Though, him being a necromancer would mean he was more in tune with the Veil and the balance of things. The reminder of how Connor’s existence spit in the face of all that would evoke strong emotions in a guardian.

They lapsed into silence for a while after that. Then Hank moved forward, grabbed a remote, and put a movie on. It was one Connor hadn’t seen before. Beginning credits played over a panning shot of the earth from space. Hank shoved Sumo off the couch so he could sit and the dog moved to sit in front of the couch at Connor’s feet.

“Traitor.” Hank said so quietly, Connor almost missed it.

He bit down a smile before turning to Hank, questions on the tip of his tongue but Hank beat him to it.

“It’ll take a while for you to look normal again, right? Might as well watch something. And this is a classic.” Hank explained. 

Connor couldn’t fault that logic so he turned back to the screen. A man, an archeologist of some sort, was reading something off a wall. He shouted at a sleeping child whose job it seemed to be to provide light. It didn’t take long for Connor to become absorbed in the strange world of the movie. Hank would occasionally say a line alongside the characters in screen. Connor found that…. for lack of a better word, adorable. Something about Hank looking so relaxed, happy even, while enraptured with a movie he’d obviously seen many times before… Connor something warm twist in his chest. He decided not to examine that feeling and instead turned his attention back to the movie.

The movie was also a great distraction from the pain of healing. By time it ended, Connor had his hair and eye back and his burns were a much less alarming colour and depth.

“Guess you were right about that healing. Damn.” Hank look impressed.

“And you were right about that movie. I quite enjoyed it and I barely noticed I was healing.”

Hank nodded, looking pleased. Connor shifted slightly, unsure what to say next. He opened his mouth slightly then closed it again. Finally, Hank broke the silence.

“How much longer until you’re… back to normal?” He asked.

Connor shrugged, “Another hour or so? Can’t say for sure.”

“Okay. It’s uh, I was going to grab some supper but-” Connor cut Hank off before he could finish his apologetic ramble.

“It will not upset me if you eat around me.” Connor was lying just a little, but Hank needed to eat.

“I just… I don’t know.”

“Go eat something, Hank. I’ll find something to watch.”

Hank’s concern touched Connor.

After Hank stood Sumo jumped onto the couch where he’d been sitting. He laid his front half over Connor’s lap, demanding his attention. Connor did not mind this distraction in the slightest. In fact, in that moment Connor felt…. more whole than he had since the moment he’d been cursed. He could almost forget about the curse, even. Almost.

Hank ate in the kitchen, Connor assumed this was to avoid upsetting him. It was… sweet. He was almost happy like this, with Sumo draped over him and Hank nearby. Connor didn’t want to examine why that was too closely. He still fully intended for Hank to kill him  after all.

Eventually, Hank returned and put on a different movie, this one Connor had seen before but he would never turn down a chance to watch the crew of the USS Enterprise travel through time to find some whales. The rest of the evening passed like this and Connor wouldn’t trade the gentle stillness of it all for anything.

~ 

“I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense.” Hank pointed out.

They were at the precinct studying the copycat case. The two men they’d arrested weren’t talking yet, so that left them trying to piece it together themselves. See, they had never released the details of the case to the public. Which meant there was a leak or….  
“The technomancer could’ve hacked our servers. It’s not all that hard.” Connor said.

“Hacking police servers isn’t that hard?” Hank scoffed.

“Servers are servers and I’m just saying hacking a server isn’t that hard with technomancy.” Connor insisted, shrugging.

“Alight, say he did. Why would he do that? What’s his motive? I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense.” Hank said.

Hank and Connor looked at each other in silence for a minute. Hank was leaning back in his chair, tossing a stress ball back and forth between his hands. Connor was perched on the edge of his desk, flipping a coin through his fingers.  
“Maybe they were looking for a pattern they could exploit to kill their victim?” Connor said, it came out far more questioning than he’d meant it.

“So they chose a crazy, complicated one?” Hank snorted.

“Well, I don’t know!” Connor was about ready to give up trying to figure this one out.

It didn’t seem to actually be pointing to their guy, and whatever their motive for their method of murder, they’d had caught them. This just felt like running around in circles, and it was exhausting. Connor sighed and wished for a millionth time that he could just sleep.

“Alright, let’s leave this alone for now. We won’t get anywhere with it until one of em talks, anyway.” Hank said, voice gentle.

Connor felt like it should upset him that the Lieutenant had let it drop out of concern for Connor, but he felt thankful. This day was a fucking nightmare.

They made absolutely no progress for the next couple hours, and eventually just gave up and chatted.

“So, your file says you’re thirty-three, but you said this curse won’t let you age so how old are you really?” Hank asked.

“Physically I’m thirty-three since that’s how old I was when I was killed. Linearly I’m forty-four.”

“Wow. Well, you look great for your age.”  
Connor had to laugh at that. He’d laughed more in the past couple days than he had in the past twelve years put together. Around Hank he felt… almost alive again. It was nice. Borderline addictive, even.

“Favourite show?” Connor asked.

“Easy, Star Trek.” Hank replied instantly.

“Which series?”

“Original, of course. C’mon, ask something difficult.”

“Favourite movie?”

“The Princess Bride. Not even a contest.”

“Damn. Fair enough.”

“What about you? Favourite movie and show?”  
“Movie? Terminator. Show? Orphan Black.”

“Orphan Black? It’s a great show and all, but can I ask why?”

“I don’t know. Something about the clones plight just interests me. Imagine just being one of who knows how many completely identical people. The only thing setting you apart from the others being the circumstances someone placed you in. Not even being considered a person by your creators… I don’t know. I think it’s interesting.” Connor finished with a shrug.

Hank just kinda stared at him for a second.  
“That’s fucking deep.”

Connor laughed.

~

Eventually, the pyromancer broke and talked. And boy, did he talk. Apparently they’d just been robbing the place, there had been a third person there. She’d been the one to kill the guy. He said she looked slightly panicked as she worked and when she spotted them she’d freaked out and bolted. The technomancer had gotten a picture of her and after his partner in crime spoke up, he caved and showed it. Connor didn’t know why they’d be so reluctant to share info that could get them off the hook for murder until he saw the picture.

“That’s Chloe Hadaly. She’s Elijah Kamski’s lapdog.” Hank said, shocked.

It also shocked Connor. Going after her would be… well, it would be suicide, so it suited Connor just fine. But he didn’t want Hank to get hurt. Kamski was the richest man in the world, and if the rumours are to believed, he dabbled in some experimental magic. Stuff no one in their right mind would touch. Connor had suspected him, he’d suspected anybody rumoured to dabble in deep magic, but he’d brushed it off. Why would Elijah Kamski be running around cursing people? It didn’t add up. But here was Chloe, his obedient partner of a sort, attempting a sloppier version of this ritual.  
“There’s no way to do this without Kamski coming after us, is there?” Hank said, voice almost as exhausted as Connor felt.

“Probably not. I can go alone if you-” Connor started but Hank waved him off.

“Nah, I’m coming along. Kamski doesn’t scare me.”

“He should. Hank, he controls just about everything, not only in this city, but in this whole country.” Connor said.

Connor was suddenly hit with how very attached to Hank he’s become in the time they’ve been working together. He’d be more than a little upset if anything happened to him, and the thought frightened him, actually frightened him. Nothing had made him feel like that in so long, it was almost equally frightening. It caught Connor in an emotional loop of fear. Hank wasn’t like Connor, Hank was alive. Living things could die. Not to mention dead things shouldn’t grow attached to living things. Connor was a dead thing, and he found that fact harder and harder to remember. The stabbing needles of pain along his skin hadn’t faded, his hunger hadn’t relented, his mind and body still ached with exhaustion, but somehow….Somehow Hank made him feel alive again. Connor couldn’t lose that, not yet.

Unfortunately, Hank was more or less impossible to stop, and soon enough the two of them found themselves outside Kamski’s overly showy place. Connor glanced at Hank one more time before taking a deep, unneeded breath and opened the front door.

Instantly he was hit with a wave of wrongness. The place was drenched in deep magic.


	3. Chapter 3

Hank felt his stomach turn as he and Connor walked through the hallways of Kamski’s mansion to find Chloe. She’d agreed to meet them and had given directions to a room, because of course this was the sort of mansion you’d need directions to navigate. The entire place was a labyrinth of modern, minimalist design. There were lights and windows everywhere, nothing looked like human hands had ever actually touched it and yet it was free of dust. That and he thought he could sense deep magic, so the whole place was creepy.

Kamski’s wealth was disgusting. As was his grip on pretty much everything in the country. Money was power, and Kamski had it all. If he or Chloe really were the ones doing this murdering, and it seemed likely that they were, there wasn’t a lot that could be done about it, and chances were Hank and Connor would get fucked over because they stuck their noses in it.

Well, Hank would get fucked over. He wasn’t sure what else they could do to Connor. Hank felt bad for the guy, really he did, but even if he hadn’t vowed off necromancy, he wasn’t about to kill him, no matter how much Connor pestered him. All he would do was keep suggesting therapy. And anyway, he liked him. Connor was a good guy, and Hank would rather he keep existing. Having him around made things a little more bearable. Which was probably an intensely selfish thought, considering how much Connor was suffering.

Hank pushed all those thoughts aside and focused on finding Chloe. It didn’t take all that long, which was surprising. When they pushed open the door to the room what faced them was what seemed like a weird rich person’s version of a living room, complete with a fucking pool in the middle. One wall was just a massive window, there was two couches facing each other on an island in the middle of the pool, a bridge connected the island to the rest of the room. You know, standard living room things. And, oh yeah, sitting on one of the stark white couches next to Chloe was Elijah Kamski himself. That was less of a surprise than it probably should’ve been.

Kamski waved them in and Hank and Connor made their way over to sit across from the them.

“So, what is it you wanted to know?” Kamski asked.

“It’s her we have questions for, mister Kamski.” Connor’s voice dripped with ice as he spoke.

It impressed Hank. Few people would talk to Kamski like that.

“Sorry, sorry.” Kamski raised his hands in a mock surrender before gesturing for them to go ahead.

“Ms Hadaly-” Connor started.

“Call me Chloe.” Chloe interrupted with a smile.

“Chloe, then. Could you tell me what you were doing the evening of November twenty-fifth?”

“I was-” She turned her head to look at Kamski who nodded, “I was trying to gather life energy for Elijah.”

“Excuse me?” Hank was taken aback.

He hadn’t expected her to just… say she was messing with deep magic. Life is full of surprises.

“There’s no point lying. You both possess strong magic so you could no doubt sense the deep magic when you walked in here. Not to mention one of you is one of my little lab rats.” Elijah said this all so casually.

“Lab rats?” Connor’s voice had returned to being solid ice.

“Yes, lab rats. See, I will be immortal. I recently perfected my spell, Chloe was the final test subject. She doesn’t need sleep, she doesn’t need food, she craves neither of these things, she does not age, nothing can kill her and she is in no pain. It took a few tries to get everything to work of course, you were one of my first tries so you’re a little worse off than most of the others.” Kamski explained.

Chloe was looking at him adoringly the whole time and Hank’s stomach turned again. This was so much more fucked up than he’d expected. Kamski was fucking with things no one should ever even consider touching.

“And the life energy?” Hank asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“For the spell to work I need a large amount of life energy stored in an object, any object. I don’t want to give away all my secrets though even if it is an amazing work of magic. I’m quite impressed with myself to tell the truth.” Kamski grinned, so self satisfied.

God, Hank wanted to punch him. It filled him with rage both on Connor’s behalf; the kid didn’t fucking deserve this and over something so meaningless and selfish? It was awful. And his necromancy, though untouched for years, screamed out at the disrespect to the Veil. Hank didn’t know how this would end but he could be sure it wouldn’t end well. There’s a fucking reason you don’t mess with deep magic.

“How many others?” Connor asked, voice having lost the ice but having gained something odd.

Hank turned his head to look at him, what he saw way even more concerning. Connor’s face was blank. He had never seen him like that before. Not that he’d known Connor for a long time, but still.

“Excuse me?” Kamski asked, as if he hadn’t heard Connor.

“How many others did you do this to?” Connor repeated.

“Don’t sound so ungrateful. You were one of the lucky ones! Would you have preferred to be one of the people killed for their energy? You would’ve stayed dead without even a spirit to move to the other side of the Veil. That’s a much worse fate.”

“Yes, I would’ve preferred that. Of course I would’ve fucking preferred that!” Connor shouted and stood up suddenly.

Hank stood as well, ready to stop Connor if he did something idiotic and suicidal again.

“Really? How fascinating. You know, a necromancer could grant your wish and you seem to have one right here.” Kamski glanced at Hank but returned his eyes to Connor quickly.

Chloe had tensed up beside him. Kamski could still be killed after all.

“Connor, calm down.” Hank tried.

It didn’t work. Connor continued to stare Kamski down. Finally Kamski spoke.

“Including you and Chloe, there were eight. I’ve lost track of two of them, however, I can’t be certain they’re still around. If this existence is so painful,” He said ‘painful’ so mockingly Hank had to wince, “maybe they managed what you couldn’t and found a decent necromancer.”

The jab at Hank’s abilities didn’t sting like he supposed it to. Hank knew he was incredibly powerful as a necromancer, he just…. didn’t use that power. He couldn’t use that power. It felt like it would be a betrayal of Cole to use that power….

“You keep track of us?” Connor’s voice snapped Hank out of it.

“Of course. I had to make sure it worked long term. Now, if you will excuse me…” Kamski stood up, Chloe following quickly, “We’ll be off.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Hank growled.

“Is that so?” Kamski smirked.

Then the water from the swimming pool rushed upwards, flooding the island quicker than they could react and froze around their feet.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Hank shouted.

“Don’t worry, I charmed the water. You’ll be frozen for quite a while but your feet will be fine. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” Kamski said then turned.

He and Chloe walked away arm in arm. Hank should’ve paid more attention to that fucking pool, Chloe was an aquamancer. Hank shouted at the retreating figures for a little long before finally turning his head to look at Connor.

Connor looked… angry. Angrier than Hank had thought someone could get. Hank almost felt a little sorry for Kamski, Connor seemed like he’d be relentless.

“Hey, we know he’s the one behind all this now. Kamski is way too famous to disappear completely. We’ll find him again.” Hank said, hoping he sounded confident.

He did not feel confident. He felt like Kamski was too damn smart. Being so untraceable until now and then just evil monologuing? No way that guy didn’t have some sort of plan he felt couldn’t be stopped.

Connor just nodded and remained quiet. He wasn’t usually the most talkative guy around, but him being so quiet was bothering Hank.  
A few minutes later the ice melted leaving them standing in a half-flooded room.

“If he kept an eye on all his ‘lab rats’,” Connor sneered, “I’m sure if we search the place we’ll find something identifying us all.”

Connor then walked off, not even looking at Hank.

Hank… wasn’t the biggest fan of Connor on the warpath. He preferred the Connor that curled up with Sumo and asked him about his favourite movies. He didn’t like it when Connor was hurting, and it was clear that Connor was hurting. Hell, if Hank had been in his place, he’d be just as hurt and pissed off but… Connor deserved better than this. Deserved better than being a madman’s test run at immortality.

Hank also realized that he was in way too fucking deep, but he wasn’t sure what he could do about that now. So he searched for something that would help identify the other people Kamski and Chloe had fucked over.

~

It took hours but Connor found a computer that had all the info they needed. It seemed off to Hank. Kamski knew Connor was a technomancer. Hank pushed that thought aside to think about later, for right now they had a potential lead.

The files were on seven people, Chloe apparently hadn’t needed a file, Connor among them. They all contained names, locations, and notes. The notes were about ritual process, amount of life energy, method of killing, and possible changes. Only two files didn’t have a location and Hank assumed those were the ones Kamski had lost track of.

“What now?” Hank asked.

“Now we find these people and figure out how to fix what Kamski’s done.” Connor still sounded so cold but then he turned to look at Hank for the first time since they we talking to Kamski and Chloe.  
His eyes were wide, and he seemed to come out of whatever rage he’d been in for the past few hours.

“I don’t mean fix what he’s done to us, though I would like that,” Hank felt the increasingly familiar sting in his heart whenever Connor mentioned his death wish, “I mean to the Veil. I don’t know if he knows what he’s done. Ever since we walked in I could feel it… it’s so close to… something. I don’t know.”

“You can sense the Veil? Better than me? I could tell something was seriously wrong here, but I didn’t pick up on all that.” Hank was impressed.

Usually only necromancers and animancers could sense the Veil. That was in part why what Kamski was doing was so horrific, he was an animancer. He on some level had to know what he was doing.

“Being dead has one or two upsides.” Connor shrugs, “The Veil calls to me. It knows I’m not where I belong. As a side effect, I can sense it.”

“You have to admit that’s cool.” Hank said.

Connor just smiled slightly. Even that tiny smile felt like a victory to Hank.  
~

They drove to Hank’s house. They figured working on the details of Kamski’s search for immortality somewhere they wouldn’t be spied on would be a good idea. Hank called in to take time off work to focus on this, he wasn’t sure what Connor had done work-wise, but he was also spending all his time on this. Connor had shoved all the relevant information from any computer in the mansion onto his phone, which he’d assured Hank was unhackable by merit of Connor’s power.

They’d learned a few things. Namely, Kamski only cursed people whose powers were particularly strong, that several of the others had found each other and stuck together, and that the two that had disappeared were almost certainly with each other. They also learned that Connor was only the first successful test, not the first total. If you could call Connor’s condition a success. Kamski’s body count just kept on growing. There was no way they were the first people to find out he was a killer.

They pored over the notes, which Connor printed out and helpfully arranged around the living room and kitchen, until it was too late for Hank to remain awake. He wished he could stay up and help Connor, but he was less than useful, so he headed off to bed, feeling guilty that he could sleep while Connor could not.

The poor guy needed sleep.

Hank was awoken the next morning by Connor slamming his bedroom door open while shouting something.

“Wha-?” Hank sat up and tried to pull himself to wakefulness quickly.

It still took a few seconds for him to understand what the fuck Connor was saying.

“-If we can do that it should fix it! Now, finding everyone will be tricky, I admit, but it’s doable. Preventing it from truly awakening is worth the trouble either way though.”

Maybe understand was an overstatement.

“Connor! Th’ fuck are you talkin’ about?” Hank tried to shake the last threads of sleep from his brain.

He also took that moment to look at Connor. The man was more energetic than Hank had ever seen him, his eyes practically shining with light, a smile so wide and beautiful it took Hank’s breath away. In that moment, Hank was sure of two things. One, that he’d never seen anything as beautiful and two, he was well and truly doomed. At the end of all this Connor was going to die or leave. Dead things didn’t belong with the living. Not to mention, what would someone like Connor see in someone like Hank? Even without the whole being dead thing, it wouldn’t work.

Once again, Hank shoved his thoughts to the side and focused on Connor. That was a problem for future Hank.

“I figured out what Kamski’s done and how we can fix it!”

“That’s great, but I thought we already knew what he did?”

“We know what he intended to do, I figured out what he’s actually done. Look, the Veil is both alive and dead, right?” Connor paused, apparently waiting for Hank confirmation to show he was following.  
“Yeah.”

“And it exists on the edge of both, dividing things and relying on necromancers and animancers to maintain the balance it needs to exist.”

“Connor, I know what the fuckin Veil is. And I know that Kamski is fucking up the balance. What are you getting at?” Hank cut it.

Connor rolled past the interruption as if it hadn’t happened, “We think deep magic taps into the power of the Veil itself but I think it taps into something else. Something older than the Veil.”

“Does all this tie together?”

“Kamski is waking whatever it is up. I don’t think he knows he’s doing that. But if we get everyone he’s cursed together in one spot and then do what is basically a reverse version of the curse, I think it will put the thing back to sleep! Or it will help the Veil keep it asleep? I’m not sure exactly how that works, but it waking seems to require the Veil to weaken.” Connor finished with a smile.

“So we’re running around gathering up all the cursed people, kidnapping Chloe and Kamski, and doing a reverse version of the curse to stop either the Veil or something you think is older than the Veil from wrecking havoc.” It sounded insane.

Connor just nodded.

“Alright. Let me get dressed and we’ll go find some zombies.”

Connor shot him a look as he left, “I’m not a zombie.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  
~

Josh Sawyers seemed like a good place to start on their quest. He was a college lecturer, so finding him probably wouldn’t be all that hard. Plus, according to Kamski’s notes he often hung out with three other people on the list, Markus Manfred, North Jones, and Simon Scott. Finding those other two would be harder. Finding and kidnapping Kamski and Chloe would be harder. One step at a time though.

Connor kept chattering away on their drive to step one. Hank was listening, but his brain kept reminding him how insane this all was, so he missed bits and pieces of Connor’s excited rant.

“Hey,” Hank cut it, “What happens to you guys after the ritual?”

“I’m not sure. Either our curse will be lifted and we’ll be returned the life stolen from us, or the other side ’ll properly claim us. Either way, it’s better than either continuing on like this or being wiped from existence.” Connor said, casual as anything.  
Hank didn’t know if he was glad he asked or not. At least there was a hope of Connor living. He deserved a proper and full life.

“The ritual itself should be fairly easy to set up, especially with a necromancer helping.” Connor leaped right on back to his previous train of thought.

And now Hank would have to burst his bubble. Goddamnit.

“I’m not going to do any necromancy, Con. If you need a necromancer, you’re gonna have to find another one.”

Connor frowned, “I’m not asking you to kill me, Hank. This is to help the Veil. Surely that’s a good use of your powers?”  
“It’s not about that.” Hank sighed, “It’s…. I vowed to never use necromancy again. I’m not breaking that vow for anything less than the apocalypse and even then, if someone else can take care of it, I’ll let em.”

“Oh. We don’t need a necromancer, just would’ve made things easier. It will work either way though. Can I ask why?” Connor question was gentle in that weird Connor way and Hank couldn’t help but tell him.

“A little over six years ago my son died. He was six, just a little kid. I… I tried to keep him around. I just ended up hurting him. You know what’s like to be a dead thing on the wrong side of the Veil. I did that to my fucking kid. I let him go, obviously I let him go, I wasn’t that shitty. And then I vowed I’d never use my necromancy again as sort of…. a way to make it up to Cole, I guess. It was the last promise I made him and I’m not breaking it.” It took everything in Hank to keep it together as he spoke.

He cleared his throat, trying to mask the tears threatening to rise to the surface. Connor sat in silence for a minute before speaking.

“I’m so sorry I kept pestering you to kill me. That sounds… traumatizing.”

Hank laughed, he wasn’t sure if it was from bitterness or amusement.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know, and you were desperate. I don’t hold it against ya.”

They drove in silence the rest of the way. Hank wanted Connor to go back to chattering, but he wasn’t sure how he could get him to do that.

Finally, they arrived at the campus Josh was supposed to be working at. If the info they found was right, he was in a lecture, so they headed over to the right building and waited for him to finish.

As though Hank’s admission in the car hadn’t happened, the two fell back into easy conversation. Hank learned that Connor missed Hawaiian pizza the most out of all foods and was scandalized.  
“Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza!” He insisted.

“Yes, it does, because it’s delicious! Look, if I end up alive after all this, I will find the best Hawaiian pizza I know of, make sure they still make it right, then show you that it’s an amazing pizza.” Connor said.

“I’ll take you up on that, but you aren’t going to find a pizza good enough to convince me pineapples should ever, under any circumstance, be put on a pizza.”

“Just wait, you’ll take that back. Mark my words.”

Connor looked so smug and happy in that moment that Hank had to actively suppress the urge to kiss him.

Luckily, at that moment students cleared out of the lecture hall, so Hank and Connor took that as their queue to approach Josh.

“Mr Sawyers?” Connor asked as they walked up to him.

The man was in the middle of gathering his own stuff together but he paused and looked over at them.

“Yes?”

“Are you one of the people cursed with the inability to die?” Connor jumped right into it.

Alright. Hank would’ve eased into it more but whatever.

Josh suddenly looked like a cornered animal, eyes wide with fear, muscles locked in place.

“I’m also cursed. I’ve found out who did this to us and I think I can fix it. I don’t know which side of the Veil that ‘fixing’ will land us on, but either way I need your help.” Connor hurried to add.

“… Why do you need my help?” Josh asked, cautiously.

“Well, I need everyone who’s been cursed for this to work. And I really need this to work. The Veil is….”

“It’s weakening. I know, I can sense it. This will fix it?”

“Yes.”

~

Josh led them to where his zombie buddies hung out. Markus looked as normal as Josh and Connor but Simon and North…

Simon and North were creepy. Simon’s eyes were glazed over, and he seemed barely present. In fact, if Hank allowed himself to take in the energies in the room he could see that Simon’s was mis-aligned. He’d felt nothing like it, it felt like reality itself had twisted into an improper shape and Hank couldn’t help but shudder.

North’s energy was in the right place but she looked like hell. She was half-rotten and Hank regretted calling Connor a zombie. This was a fucking zombie. Her skin and muscles rested so loosely on her bones, Her eyes were little more than blood filled orbs. Hank was almost afraid that if someone so much as touched her everything would fall right off her skeleton.

“Who the fuck are they?” North asked somewhat aggressively.

“This is Connor and Hank. Connor’s cursed too, and they think they can fix not only us, but the Veil too.” Josh introduced them.

“Really? That’s amazing.” Markus lit up.

“I don’t buy it. How do we know you’re cursed?” North continued to glare at Connor.

“Well, since I can’t die I can prove it any number of ways.”

“That seems extreme.” Hank said and was ignored.

“Who has my gun?” North asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Josh said, raising his hands as though to calm an animal.

“I think it is necessary! How do we know they are two randoms who found out about the curse and are trying to figure out how to be immortal? Actually, how do we know they aren’t the fuckers that cursed us in the first place!” North threw her hands in the air and Hank felt his heart stop in anticipation of her skin just flying away.

It didn’t, much to his relief. He cut in again.

“Elijah Kamski is the one who cursed you.”

“Think about it, it adds up.” Josh pointed out, backing Hank up.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve always thought it was Kamski!” North shoved her finger to Josh’s chest.

“They’re telling the truth.”

Everyone turned their heads to find the source of the voice. It was Simon, his head had turned, and he focused his freaky sightless eyes on them.

“You’re sure?” North asked, but she was visibly backing down.

Simon just nodded then went back to staring at the wall. Markus rushed over to his side and quickly got to work doing some sort of healing spell. So he was an abjuramancer then. That explained why North and Simon stuck around him. Besides how much they obviously cared about each other that is.

“Alright. Alright, fine! What do you know?” North’s voice had lost her suspicion but not her anger.

Connor hesitated for just a second before explaining everything they knew. Hank felt extra while he did so. Really, he was only here’s because he was following Connor around. A necromancer who wouldn’t do necromancy was already useless, but it hit him just how unnecessary he was. Still, at the least he was providing Connor with some much-needed friendship. The poor guy had been through more than enough on his own.

When Connor finished his explanation three of them stared at him, Simon was still looking off into the distance. Hank couldn’t read their faces but they didn’t look disbelieving. Hank supposed since they could sense the Veil, maybe they already had suspicions. After far too long a pause, Markus spoke up.

“Alright, we’ll help. Do you have a plan to find the other two? Or Kamski and Chloe?”

“Not…. yet…” Connor admitted, almost sheepish.

“Finding you guys was step one. We can go and leave you alone until we get the others and then come get you.” Hank spoke up. 

“No, we want to help.” Markus said firmly, “We’ll look for those other two.”

“We will?” North raised an eyebrow.  
“I don’t want to just sit around waiting to see if Connor and Hank manage to pull everything together. The Veil is on the line, I have to do something, and I would rather not do it alone, but if you don’t want to help, that’s fine.” Markus was calm as he spoke but the slight tremble in his voice gave away something.

Fear, probably. Who wouldn’t be afraid? They were on the edge of something terrifying.

“No, I’ll help. I just didn’t like you volunteering us like that.” North shrugged.

Markus smiled at her so softly Hank felt like he was intruding on something. He looked away, eyes falling on Connor. Connor still looked on edge. They’d found half the people needed for the ritual, true, but they were the easy four to find so Hank supposed there was a reason for him to be on edge. Or maybe there was another reason? Hank shrugged it off for now.

There wasn’t really anything else to do there, so they exchanged numbers and headed off. The drive back to Hank’s house was quiet.

~

Three days later Markus’ group let them know they’d found Kelsy and Andy in Toronto. Apparently, it hadn’t taken all that long to convince them to help. Now all that was left was to track down Kamski and Chloe. This didn’t take them long since they’d already been looking for them. When Connor traced them to a town a few hours away, he was full of a focused energy. It was intoxicating to witness.

Another thing, Connor was a lot more, for lack of a better word, alive lately. Hank wasn’t sure if it was having a purpose now or if it was him looking forward to being alive again. Or being properly dead. Hank preferred to think it wasn’t the last one though it probably was. Or maybe Hank was just being pessimistic. He didn’t know. Whatever it was, he was finding it harder and harder to squish down any fuzzy, romantic type feelings. Connor was just too damn amazing.

“That’s only, what, five hours away? Looks like we’ve got a plan for tomorrow.” Hank said.

It felt right, helping the Veil. Even if he wasn’t using his necromancy to do it, he was fulfilling his purpose on this earth as a necromancer. He felt a little more right with the universe.  
The next day, they headed out. Hank’s playlist was blasting, but he let Connor pick the songs they listened to from it. He seemed to pick songs based on names he found either intriguing or amusing. That, or it was completely random, Hank found he didn’t care either way, Connor was happy, and that was too amazing to question.

He thought back to how Connor was when they first met, miserable, hopeless and desperate. Resigned to a life of loneliness and pain. Hank couldn’t help but prefer this smiling, happy Connor. He also didn’t want to poke at the reason for that happiness.

They spent the next while bopping along to the music. Hank couldn’t remember the last time he felt so whole.

~

“Oh, come on, it’s a classic!”

“It seems that everything you enjoy are classics.”

Connor was smirking at his own jab. Hank had brought up Scott Pilgrim, the movie, even though the books were better, and had found out Connor hadn’t even heard of it. He was, naturally, appalled.

“Har har, funny guy. I’m making you watch that movie later.” Hank said.

“I look forward to it.” Connor said, so damn sincere.  
“What sort of movies do you watch, anyway?” Hank asked.  
“Mostly modern SciFi. Though after watching The Fifth Element with you, I’ve decided I should watch more older SciFi.”

“It’s not that old!”

“Hank, it’s decades old.”

~

“So then he wakes up and he can hear Noah and Blue freaking out but he’s still lagging and can’t really make sense of it until-”

Connor continued, not even pausing for breath. Apparently Connor was a fan of classic YA books. Hank didn’t get it, but seeing how he lit up as he explained the plot of his favourite series was breathtaking. If Hank was honest, he’d completely lost track of the plot, though.

~

They parked outside the hotel Kamski and Chloe likely hidden in. Connor was sure they were still in there based on online transactions or something. He didn’t know exactly how Connor knew, but he knew, and that was good enough for Hank.

“Do we have a plan?” Hank asked.

An entire five-hour drive, and they hadn’t actually talked about what they would do when they got here. He’d just been so wrapped up just talking to Connor he’d forgotten the purpose of their road trip.

“He’s still killable, we could just point a gun at him and tie them up.” Connor suggested.

He was full of similar suggestions that Hank felt were too simple.

“Doesn’t he have bodyguards?” Hank pointed out.

“They can’t stop me.”

And Connor had a point. He was a little unstoppable.

So Hank agreed to Connor’s plan. Connor hacked the hotel’s servers to find out what room Kamski was in, they walked right up to the door and knocked.

Hank could think of a million ways this could go wrong, but it felt too late to bring them up, so he just stepped back as the door opened and watched Connor do his thing.  
The bodyguard who’d opened the door tried to close the door again when he saw them but Connor shoved himself part-way in the door to stop it closing. The bodyguard then pulled out a gun which Connor took care of by breaking the guy’s arms and just taking the gun. The bodyguard collapsed in pain and Connor stepped over him to retrieve Kamski and Chloe. The two of them came fairly willingly which struck Hank as a little odd. Chloe’s face was weirdly blank as well which couldn’t be good.

They threw Kamski in the trunk of Hank’s car, tied up of course, and Chloe got to sit in the back seat, equally tied up. If Hank was being honest, she didn’t seem….. present. Sure, she was responding to things that directly interacted with her, but she was mostly just staring off into space. It was creepy as fuck.

So they drove to the clearing in a nearby forest where they’d all agreed to do this. Everyone else had already gone and had set everything up.

As Hank pulled his car into the clearing, he allowed himself to take in the scene. All the cursed people, Connor and Chloe aside, were standing around a large symbol they’d carved into the ground. Once they noticed the car, they rushed to stand in a circle on different points on the symbol. Hank lead Chloe to her point and Connor dragged Kamski to the middle before hurrying to his point, completing the circle.

Hank stood off to the side, near enough to Chloe so he could… force? Help? Get her to do her part.

Everyone in the circle cut a thin line in their palms and allowed their blood to drip to the ground. The symbol lit up with a sinister red glow, something that looked and smelled a lot like blood rushed up from the dirt to fill the symbol. Hank could feel the magic crackling through the air, making it almost had to breathe.

There was no going back now.


	4. Chapter 4

Connor felt the magic rush through him, connecting him to the others in the circle. Everything felt like it was spinning and standing still, moving in slow-motion and fast-forward, too much and nothing at all. His being felt like it was being pulled apart and compressed all at once. It was staticky and slimy and he hated it. Connor pushed aside his internal disgust with deep magic with the reminder he was doing this for the Veil and to put a stop to Kamski’s nonsense.

Connor allowed himself to open his eyes and saw the rest of the circle had done the same in sync. He could feel the Veil, he could feel it syphoning off their energy, growing stronger with every passing moment. He could also feel himself grow lighter, he could feel the pain leave his body, hollowing him out. The relief of it was almost too much, but he kept it together, only allowing a couple stray tears to fall. The others seemed to have similar reactions. Connor felt himself fill with a light feeling, flooding the spaces the pain used to occupy, he didn’t know if it was his emotions or the spell. The slime and static of the deep magic was fading as the Veil took over.

Then something twisted and it returned full force, slime and static and pain flooding all of Connor’s senses. He looked around to see what had gone wrong.

Chloe was standing there, more present than she’d been all day, hands clasped together, eye closed, a faint black glow seeping out from under her lids. She was chanting something and Connor couldn’t move. None of them could move, something trapped them in place on the symbol. Her voice dropped to a rumble far deeper than any human could sound and her eyes opened, now a pure, terrifying black that felt wrong to even look at. It was impossible to continue looking at her face, Connor’s shifted away quicker and quicker each time he tried.

In the centre of the circle Kamski laughed. The ropes binding him fell away, and he stood up. Connor felt his stomach drop. This was exactly where Kamski had wanted to be. There was a reason this had all been so easy. They’d done exactly what he’d wanted.

“Thanks for setting this all up for me.” He said, grinning.

He spread his arms out and breathed in. Connor could feel something building and before he could wrap his mind around anything that was happening there was a deafening tearing sound, and the sky went black. Not only that, the surrounding forest disappeared. It was now just the cursed, Kamski, and the symbol floating in a deep, endless void.

And it paralyzed Connor with fear.

~

Hank had seen Chloe shift her weight, but he hadn’t move fast enough to stop her chanting. He tried to grab her but some sort of shock wave sent him flying back. A black dome of energy surrounded the circle as Hank watched helplessly.

He hurried to his feet and ran towards to dome. Carefully he tried to touch it but it was like there was an invisible barrier stopping his hand just before he could come in contact with the dome.

“Fuck!”

The black of the dome was swirling with something… colours Hank’s brain couldn’t process. It was beautiful and terrifying and it was standing in between him and Connor. He slammed a fist against the air around the dome and swore again.

He knew this was wrong, he may not have done any necromancy in years, but he could tell when something was an active threat to the Veil.

This entire dome reeked of deep magic, it was repulsive to be around and every part of his being screamed for him to get as far away as possible, even just standing near it was making his stomach churn. But Connor was inside that thing, so he had to find some way to fix this.

~

Connor tried to shout, to move to do anything, but he remained frozen to the spot, only able to move his eyes, cold fear gripping him like icy claws. He’d felt this before, the memory slowly trickled back.

Walking through his favourite park as a detour on his way home. A gun pressed to his back. Something almost alive slithering through his veins, slowing everything down. Darkness. Falling. Dying. Seeing the Veil, it’s warmth welcoming him. Cold seizing his body, ripping him away. Darkness, swirling with something he couldn’t place this time. Pain. Finally, waking up alone in a motel room he didn’t recognize, blood swirling around the room in patterns he hadn’t seen before, a feeling of wrongness radiating down to his bones.

This was that darkness, the second swirling, paralyzing darkness. This was something Other than the Veil. This was something not to be touched.

And, like an idiot, Kamski was touching it.

Connor could feel the moment Kamski lost his grip on it, the surrounding darkness grew heavier. Connor could also feel when something he wished was anything but the Veil tore. He knew it was the Veil; he wished it wasn’t. He didn’t know what this meant, but he knew it couldn’t be good. The static of the deep magic was swirling through his brain now, making it impossible to think clearly. The air grew thick with the magic and he was suddenly glad he didn’t need to breathe as that seemed to have become impossible.

The deep magic flooded every sense, every fiber of his being, drowning him in its sludge.

~

Hank was still trying to think of something, anything, to do when the sky split in half. Or rather, the piece of reality Hank saw as the sky split in half. Inside that tear there were… shapes. They were shifting and changing and writhing, or maybe they were still. Every time Hank’s eyes had almost figured out what signal to send his brain about what he was seeing, it seemed to change.

He didn’t have to be a necromancer to tell you that something fucked up had happened to the Veil. He had to be a necromancer to do anything about it though. He briefly wondered if he’d somehow jinxed himself by saying he wouldn’t perform necromancy again for anything less than the apocalypse.

With a heavy heart he reached inside himself and tapped into the magic he hadn’t allowed himself to touch in years. He hesitated for a moment, hating himself both for what he was about to do, and for not doing it immediately. Then he let his magic flow through him.

It’s coolness and the way it rushed through his veins was still familiar. With something akin to muscle memory, he sent the energy toward the tear in the sky, looping through it, sewing it shut. Or, not shut, but closer. It took a tremendous amount of energy but figured he could hold it for a bit. There wasn’t a whole lot else he could do outside the dome.

~

Inside the dome, the swirling darkness became frantic for a second before calming back down. The deep magic stopped choking them, but it remained in place. Then, a space next to Chloe stopped existing, or maybe it existed twice as much. It was a perfect circle of either nothingness or everythingness hovering in the air.

Connor could hear it whispering something. Then, he knew two things, if he intended to touch that orb he could move and if he touched it, he would be safe. He would be safe and he could have exactly what he wanted most. He could be alive again, he could eat and sleep and exist without pain. He could have Hank.

He could live with Hank, he could kiss Hank, he could fuck Hank, he could love Hank. All he had to do was touch the orb.  
Connor almost moved, he almost ran towards that orb but Kamski beat him to it. As soon as Elijah Kamski’s fingers brushed that orb he vanished. Just popped out of reality, not a trace of his existence left.

This snapped Connor out of whatever trance he’s been in. He turned his head and found he could move freely though it felt as though reality was lagging slightly as he moved. He briefly wondered how long he could do that.

Chloe screamed, it was a desperate, agonized sound. Before anyone could do anything she touched the orb and disappeared.

Loyal to Kamski until the end, it seemed.

And with that, the dome, and the magic enveloping them, vanished. Apparently, the dome had been Chloe’s doing.

Connor looked around for Hank and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw him. Then he saw he was using magic and guilt shot through him. If Connor hadn’t so selfishly chased the chance at living again, they wouldn’t be here. Hank wouldn’t have had to break his promise.

Connor pushed those feelings aside for the moment and rushed to Hank’s side. He could deal with his guilt if he survived this.

~

Hank thought he was doing alright keeping the tear under control until a surge of power came out of nowhere and tripled it in size. He couldn’t help but let out a small pained yell as his magic strained to keep it under control.  
A second later there was another surge, this one thankfully smaller. Then the dome vanished and Connor was running towards him.

The others followed him and soon they grouped around Hank. He noticed Kamski and Chloe were missing. He would question that later. For now, it was taking all his concentration to stop the tear from destroying the Veil. The tear itself seemed to have its own awareness, which was fucking terrifying to think about. It was trying to dodge around his magic, the movements of its energy precise and sharp, Hank could barely keep up. He could feel it draining his energy at a terrifying rate.

“That’s hurting the Veil, isn’t it?” Connor asked.

Hank didn’t waste energy on an answer, it seemed a little obvious.

“Is there a way we could, I don’t know, feed energy into the Veil to help it fight this?” Markus asked.

There was but Hank didn’t want to bring it up. With the amount of time each of the zombies had spent on the wrong side of the Veil they’d weakened it. If someone gave them to the Veil, it was likely it could close the tear on its own. But then they’d be not only dead but vanished from all existence. Even once Hank died, he wouldn’t be able to find Connor on the other side of the Veil.

He couldn’t stand that thought. Unfortunately, Connor had learned a lot about the Veil in his twelve years of being cursed and Hank could see him draw the same fucking conclusion. He knew Connor would go through with it and he felt his heart shatter.

~

Connor had an idea. It was the same idea he’d had his heart set on for so long but now it felt like a weight on his heart. Just a few weeks ago, he would’ve jumped at the chance to allow the Veil to take him but now… now he wanted to live. Fuck, he’d settle for remaining dead just as long as he could stay with Hank.

But the Veil was on the line so he explained his idea.

Markus looked resigned, Josh and North were unreadable, Simon look relieved, Kelsy and Andy look afraid. Hank looked heartbroken.

Connor wondered if… if maybe….

But again he pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter, not anymore.

“We have to do this, don’t we? We die either way, and this way at least the rest of everything won’t go with us.” Andy said, her voice flat.

“I don’t know what exactly would happen if we didn’t but… yes.” Connor said.

Andy nodded. Hank remained silent.

“Lieutenant Anderson, are you alright with this? You are the one who will have to-” Markus said but Hank cut him off.

“Don’t have much of choice. I don’t wanna do this, but I also don’t wanna watch the Veil fall apart.” Hank shrugged.

Connor could see his confidence was faked. He didn’t…. he didn’t want to dwell on this moment. He also didn’t want to waste what little time he had left. Unsure of what to do or say, Connor remained silent.  
“I’ll go first.” Markus volunteered.

“Markus!” North snapped, voice rough.

“It’s alright, North. Someone has to go first.” Markus said, placing a hand on her shoulder before walking forward.

~

Hank didn’t need a ton of energy to detach someone’s soul, and even less to send it away. With a push Markus’ soul left his body, floating free, visible only to Hank. A line of energy tethered him to Hank. He felt a sick sense of déjà vu as he severed that line.

Markus’ body dissolved. Josh sobbed, North screamed, and Simon silently cried. Simon was the next to step forward. Hank repeated the process.

Next was a still sobbing Josh.

Then was North, her face stoney radiating anger. Not at Hank, just at everything else.

Then Kesly and Andy. They asked to go at the same time and Hank tried his best but Andy vanished just a second before Kelsy.

Then there was just him and Connor standing there.

~

Connor could feel the Veil gaining strength, his plan working. With a heavy heart he went to stand in front of Hank. He tried to memorize his features even though he knew in a minute he wouldn’t even have a memory.  
“You know, oddly enough, I don’t want to die.” Connor said.

“Really? What a plot twist.” Hank’s words were light but his face and voice were not.

Connor felt his heart break yet again. This isn’t how he wanted to die.

He felt Hank gently push his soul out of his body. At the last second, he decided fuck it; he was about to vanish from existence, and he was sure Hank wanted this too, so he leaned forward and kissed him.

The kiss only lasted a second, but for the last thing he would ever do, it was perfect.

~

Hank hadn’t expected the kiss, but he wished Connor would’ve done it even a second earlier. By time Connor’s lips were on his, his energy was already slicing Connor’s tie to reality and he vanished. Hank felt him vanish.

Almost instantaneously the tear vanished. The Veil repairing itself quickly with the energy it had just gained.

Hank collapsed to his knees and stared at the ground. On some level, he had known it was likely that Connor would die today, properly die, but it hadn’t exactly sunk in. He wasn’t sure if it had sunk in, even now. His body felt numb.

Hank didn’t know how long he stayed like that, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing, feeling nothing, but eventually something in him snapped, and he cried. Softly and hardly noticeable at first, growing harsher with every breath until he was curled in on himself, sobbing.

The idea of pulling himself together, getting up, and moving on with his life briefly flitted through his mind, but it was a thought that was quickly dismissed. Connor had been so fucking amazing, he was allowed to lose it a bit.

An immeasurable amount of time later, Hank stopped sobbing. He was still crying, silent tears running down his face. He felt nothing anymore. He was already familiar with how he grieved, frantic then an inescapable numbness, he knew what he was feeling now would stretch on. He didn’t know for how long; he hadn’t known Connor for long, all things considered, but he thought it would last awhile.

It struck him how unfair this all was. Connor hadn’t chosen an existence that spit in the face of balance and the Veil, Kamski had forced that on him. Hank knew the world didn’t have a lot of fairness in it, generally the opposite in fact, but this seem extra cruel. Or maybe he thought it was extra cruel because he cared for Connor. Maybe if this had happened to some other people, he wouldn’t care. Fuck, he barely cared about the other cursed people who the exact same fucking thing happened to! Yeah, it sucked that they had their lives stolen, but Hank hadn’t known them. He hadn’t spent hours talking about SciFi with them. He hadn’t been secretly harbouring growing feelings for them. They didn’t know about Cole. They didn’t have the most perfect smile he’d ever seen. They didn’t fidget by flipping a coin through their fingers. 

They hadn’t kissed him as they vanished.

They weren’t Connor.

~

Connor hadn’t expected to be aware of anything after he died, but he was still aware. He wasn’t sure what he was aware of outside his continued existence. As far as he could tell he was just a consciousness in a void. It was odd, to say the least, but it wasn’t awful. At the very least he wasn’t hungry. Or tired. Or in pain. In fact, he felt fine! He also didn’t think he had a body so that might explain that.

It didn’t take long for his curiosity to fade. At that point, it sunk in that he was likely stuck here and he wouldn’t see Hank again. Despite the lack of a body a pulse of pain ran through him at the thought. He hadn’t wanted to leave Hank behind, he wanted to do what he could to fix things.

He wasn’t sure if time was working properly in this void so he didn’t know how long he existed there with his pain before something happened.

One moment he was just a consciousness, and the next he had a body again. Experimentally, he tried to breathe. He found he could. He then moved an arm, then his other arm, then his legs. His body seemed perfectly functional if oddly empty. This was confusing for about a second before he realized that emptiness was a lack of pain. It was weird, but it was also amazing.

Then a door appeared in front of him. Or, more like, a dark room appeared around him and the wall in front of him included a door.

Curious he moved forward.

~

There was a flash of light. Hank quickly rose to his feet, ready for whatever this fresh nonsense could be. There was what appeared to be the outline of a door, just sort of there. Hank didn’t really know what to think about that. Then it opened, and out stepped Markus.

“The fuck?” Hank said under his breath.

Then came Simon who quickly enveloped Markus in an embrace. Then Josh who quickly joined them. Then North, who now looked like a real living human, she also joined the group hug. Then Andy followed quickly by Kelsy. They fell into each other’s arms, crying and kissing. Hank felt the need to look away.

Finally, through the door walked Connor. He was so beautiful; he was always beautiful but now he practically glowed. Hank stood frozen, unsure how to make himself do anything but stare at Connor. Connor’s eyes scanned the area briefly before landing on Hank. He didn’t waste even a second before grinning and rushing over to him.

Connor flung himself at Hank, arms wrapping around him. Hank returned the embrace quickly, Connor colliding with him having brought him back to his senses. He buried his face in Connor’s neck and they stayed like that for a time. Hank didn’t have it in himself to move.

Cautiously, as though he would shatter the illusion this could very well be, Hank let his magic scan Connor, just to be sure this was real. Not only was Connor real, he was apparently very much alive.

“You’re alive.” He said, voice filled with wonder.

“I am?” Connor pulled back just enough to look at Hank, “I am. Wow.”

He then leaned forward and kissed Hank. This kiss was a million times better than the last one. For one, it lasted longer than a half a second, and Connor didn’t disappear this time.

Hank hoped he’d never disappear again.

~

The others all parted ways after that, returning to their lives, or perhaps starting them anew. Connor didn’t know, and honestly he was mostly focused on Hank and how alive he was now. He felt almost empty without the pain radiating through his body and the Veil clawing away at the back of his head, beckoning him towards the other side. It was good emptiness though. It was like the fog had been pulled away, he could finally think again.

Connor wanted to worry about the official story and how all this would be explained in a believable way, but all he could think about was returning to Hank’s house and basking in his and Sumo’s presence. So he did just that.

A drive that flew by, unprocessed in Connor’s exhaustion later, they arrived. Connor quickly set about ordering pizza, he hadn’t eaten in twelve years after all, and Hank found a movie for them to watch.

Two hours later Hank and Connor were curled up on Hank’s couch, Sumo at their feet and empty pizza boxes scattered about. Connor had promised to show Hank the wonders of an amazing Hawaiian pizza after all. Hank admitted that the place they’d ordered from had what was ‘probably the only kinda alright pizza with fucking pineapple on it’. Connor felt decidedly smug about that.

He also felt content, and full, and kinda sleepy, but without the bite of overwhelming exhaustion. And happy. So incredibly happy. He allowed his head to fall onto Hank’s shoulder and he closed his eyes. Safe and warm in Hank’s arms he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep. For this first time in years, he was truly happy to be alive.


End file.
